


Smile Medicine

by Karios



Category: White Collar
Genre: Episode Related, Episode: s02e01 Withdrawal, Gen, Sick Kids Being Happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 14:35:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7718608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karios/pseuds/Karios
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal finds an unusual reprieve from grief and tries to keep it a secret from Peter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smile Medicine

**Author's Note:**

> Set either within or around Withdrawal, the opening episode of season two. For the bingo square Performing.

"Can I have Thursday off?” Neal inquired right at the tail end of their walk to the office, timed seconds prior to Peter opening the glass doors. Both men stepped inside.

“I don't know yet,” came Peter’s reply.

“When might you know?” prodded Neal again, bouncing on his heels as they waited for the elevators.

“Maybe once we’ve gotten to the office and I have some semblance of what case we’ll be working by Thursday?”

“Okay.” Neal’s voice was softer and he said nothing else the rest of the ride up.

They’d closed a major case over the weekend and Peter wasn't lying when he said he had little idea what they’d be doing, but Neal’s change in demeanor made him wonder if he’d been too harsh. “Neal,” he tried on their way to their desks. His CI gave no indication of having heard him.

From there, the morning passed slowly. No breakthroughs were made on old cases and nothing new had come in. Peter knew he should be happy that crime was scarce, but for the moment it meant no opportunities for fieldwork. To top it off it was drizzling. The normally bright and cheery New York field office radiated gloom. Several times he found himself passing by Neal’s desk, prodding him to work on the stack of paperwork-laden mortgage fraud cases Neal had been given. Peter tried to look angry that his CI was neglecting work, but mostly he paced just because the walk gave him something to do.

* * *

 

By Tuesday, Peter’s boredom reached new heights. He clicked around at all the major museums, galleries, even a couple of municipal websites trying to figure out what event Neal might be attending. The search came up dry unless Neal had his heart set on seniors’ swing dancing, or a lecture series at the public library. Keeping an eye on his sneaky consultant was official enough business to justify using the Bureau’s computers for a while but eventually Peter gave up on it, mostly out of guilt when he caught Neal staring at him.

A glance at the clock, barely 11:30, made Peter want to bang his head against the monitor. Instead he logged out and gathered his coat.

“Neal.”

“I’m working, I’m working,” he snapped, without looking up.

“I see that. I was just going to ask if you wanted to take an early lunch.”

Neal sprung to his feet and twirled his hat into place with the usual flair, but that was the only spark of enthusiasm Peter saw. Not even a usual grumble about Peter’s choice of lunch venue: a cramped sports bar.

They ordered a pair of hamburgers and slid into a booth.

“It's good to get out of the office,” tried Peter. The agent desperately wanted to engage in any kind of conversation.

“Yeah. Time away from the thrilling world of mortgage fraud.” Neal punctuated the sentence with a smile that didn't ring true.

“It’s the less tedious cousin of the paperwork required for solidifying your release.”

Peter waited for a comeback but Neal was staring out into space, lost to the world.

“Alright I give up, what’s opening Thursday?”

Neal blinked. “What?”

Peter rarely knew the other man to be so inattentive, but then things were different lately. He wondered where Neal went on these short mental vacations. He wanted to believe it was somewhere better than that moment on the tarmac, but he wasn't that naive. “I was asking what exhibit was so important you needed Thursday off.”

“Oh. It’s nothing to do with art.” 

“Oh?” Peter prompted.

Neal shifted uncomfortably. “Am I required to tell you where I’m going?”

Their meals arrived, and getting everything settled delayed Peter’s kneejerk responses. Between bites of burger, he settled on asking, “Is it in your radius?”

Neal nodded and then for good measure, added, “I’ll be alone, and I, nor anyone I know, will be doing anything illegal.”

“Then no, you don't have to. Consider Thursday free unless-”

“Unless there's an urgent case, or a Bureau emergency, I know,” Neal finished for him. “Thanks Peter.”

“You’re welcome,” he returned automatically. Peter spent the next day and a half reminding himself he had little reason to be suspicious and even less reason to be hurt.

* * *

 

Wednesday came and went at a crawl, but Thursday morning as pulled on the white gloves for his costume, Neal found himself breathing a little easier. He enlisted June’s help to tie his cape on straight. “Will Agent Burke be there this time?”

Neal started to shake his head then thought better of it, he was bound to topple the oversized hat he was wearing. “No...I didn’t tell him.”

“Why not?” June asked, stepping back to give Neal’s sleeves a tug. “I think it’s wonderful what you’re doing for these kids.”

“What we’re doing,” countered Neal with one of his charming grins. “No magician is complete without a ravishing assistant.”

June laughed and waved off the compliment. “I’m just happy to be in on the act, but that still doesn’t answer my question.”

It was hard to resist June’s penetrating gaze, and Neal disliked wasted effort. Neal sighed. “Peter thinks everything I do is a choreographed performance, part of some long con.”

“For someone like Agent Burke that's a sign of respect,” argued June.

“Well it’s exhausting. Especially now.”

“Because the only con you're pulling these days is on yourself. Afraid if you don't keep playing the role of happy, if you start admitting you're not alright, that it will all come crashing down.”

Neal doesn't answer her. He doesn't have to.

June turned away from him and Neal followed her out to the car. “You’re talking to a widow, Neal. Take it from an old woman who knows, you're not as alone as you think.”

Neal knew he wasn't alone. He knew that June, Moz, and the Burkes all cared about him, but was it enough? June hadn't signed up to be his therapist. How much emotion could Mozzie handle before Neal was too big an attachment? And as understanding as Peter and Elizabeth promised to be, he knew there were plenty of others at the Bureau were looking for any excuse that Neal was off his game to throw him back into prison again.

* * *

 

Back at the Bureau, Peter left one eye on Neal’s tracking data as often as he could. As the dot representing Neal began to move Peter slid over to watch its progress. “Okay, Neal. What are you up to?” It came to a stop at a hospital. 

He entertained and rapidly dismissed the possibility that Neal was injured or otherwise in danger. No one took requested time off to be sick, and if it was serious he would have been notified. All of these perfectly reasoned arguments still led to him jotting down the address and cancelling lunch with El.

* * *

 

“Is this your card?” Neal held up the three of diamonds.

“No!” cheered a little boy, grinning at beating Neal.

“Oh wait, silly me. Yours had your name on it.”

Neal handed over the four of spades with an an emblazoned 'Levi' on it to the wide-eyed little boy.

Most of Neal’s tricks were fairly simple. Card and coin tricks played to Neal’s strengths and were ideal for close up magic.

“And now, onto the birthday girl. Three cheers for my next helper Ashton!” Neal grinned as he made his way to the girl’s bedside.

“You made it!” She threw her tiny arms around his neck.

Neal wondered if anyone else had ever been that happy to see him. “You bet I did. And I even brought a present.”

“Is it a card, like Levi got?” guessed Ashton.

“Better,” he promised, “say the magic words.”

“Please and thank you!” She answered with such confidence that Neal didn't dare correct her.

With a flick of his wrist, Neal produced a bouquet of beautiful synthetic flowers.

For his grand finale, Neal produced Bugsy from his hat. While the pug soaked up the attention, Neal savored the tiny smiles.

* * *

 

A few floors below, Peter waited not so patiently for a receptionist. “Agent Burke,” greeted Peter, flashing his badge. “Has a Neal Caffrey been admitted?”

The receptionist trailed her fingers over the keys. “No one by the name of Caffrey, here or in our emergency department unless  he's arrived in the last fifteen minutes.”

Peter shook his head. Neal had been there a while. “Could you check again? C-A-F-”

A janitor pushing a mop joined the conversation. “Nah, Officer, Neal’s fine. Lucy, he’s looking for the magician.”

The receptionist, whose name was apparently Lucy, laughed. “Oh! He’s performing for the pediatric cancer wing today.”

“I can take him over there,” offered the man, as he set his mop against the wall.

Peter turned to face the other man. “Thank you, Mr.”

“Call me Alvin, and it's no trouble. I like Neal. He in some kind of trouble? I’ve seen the special jewelry.” At Peter’s look, he added, “you catch more when your eyes are always on the ground, Agent Burke.”

Peter didn't quite know what to say to that, so he asked instead, “how do you know Neal?”

“He’s been performing for the kids the last five Saturdays in a row, minus last weekend. Few people say hello to a janitor, but Neal thought to, you remember something like that.”

Peter shook his head. That was Neal alright. “Wait, he’s been here every Saturday? Anyway idea why the special appearance?”

Alvin glanced back at Peter. “Today's one of the patient's birthdays, sweet little girl’s been begging him to come on her big day since his first show.”

Peter felt like such a heel that he came to a stop in the middle of the hallway. Unsure of a better way to get out of it, Peter made a show of checking his phone, even though his only text was from Elizabeth. “Looks like I won't have time for any cards tricks after all.”

Alvin smiled knowingly, his eyes crinkling at the edges.”You take care, Agent Burke.”

* * *

 

Come Friday morning Neal would find a note on his desk: Next time you need a day off to perform for children: just ask. 

“Neal, get up. We’ve got a case.”

“Peter, how’d you know?”

“Nothing gets past me. You should have learned that by now.”

Neal rolled his eyes. “No jokes, no comments?”

“The entire point of this program is to reform you. I can't imagine greater evidence for that than you spending your time off as a party magician.”

“Oh look, Mr. Special Day Off has arrived,” teased Diana, as they entered the conference room.

Before Neal could think of a comeback, Peter chimed in. “Just because Neal gets tickets to some Broadway show is no reason to poke fun.”

“It’s called The Lion King, Peter. I thought even you’d remember that.”

“What, how?” Diana scoffed. “Okay. Spill. Was it as good as the reviews say?”

Neal took the chair next to her. “Incredible performance. See what you miss by not being my date?”

“Dream on, Caffrey.”

Peter banged a file on his desk. “Alright, that's enough. We have work to do. Can I get to the briefing?”

All eyes turned toward Peter's, and if Neal's gaze was a little brighter, or his hands shook a little less, Peter didn't say a word.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea rewatching Vital Signs, Neal uses his magician skills in a hospital setting. I threw in a dash of suspicious Peter and this was the result. Hope you enjoyed.


End file.
